


Prince Genim and the Wolf

by theonewiththeeyebrows



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:44:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonewiththeeyebrows/pseuds/theonewiththeeyebrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles deduces that his mother's death wasn't caused by her cancer. To investigate this, he goes on an adventure with Scott and his bird, Lydia, to follow his mother's last steps. On his journey he meets Isaac, to who both Scott and Lydia take a shining to. A wolf, shows up in their time of need. As they get to know the wolf, they find out that he is a human who had been cursed. Thrust into a new world where everyone changes, how is Stiles supposed to break the curses that surround him and find out the truth about his mother's death?</p><p>[All pairings are either implied or in the past -- nothing graphic or anything]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the [Teen Wolf Reverse Bang](http://twreversebang.livejournal.com/24739.html); and my prompt was 3016 [(Prince Genim and the Wolf) by kickingshoes on tumblr](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/post/41391337911/fic-title-prince-genim-and-the-wolf-author)

[ ](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/post/41391337911/fic-title-prince-genim-and-the-wolf-author)

"Stiles!"  
  
"Aaaahhh!" Stiles starts awake, knocking the journal his head had been resting on off the desk. Blue petals fly out from inside and scatter around the room. Lydia chirps loudly, disapproving of the mess and noise. "What the --"  
  
"Sorry! Sorry!" Scott raises his arms out in front of himself and backs away from Stiles. Stiles looks around his room in dazed confusion. He rubs his eyes and yawns loudly, before stretching out his arms. He shakes his head, to clear the cobwebs and blinks animatedly.  
  
"What is going on dude?" Stiles wipes the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his t-shirt and Lydia chirps loudly again, flying down onto his shoulder to peck at his shirt. "What? It's not like you haven't seen me wipe my drool before?" Stiles coos at the beautiful fire-bird. Lydia had been Stiles' mom's bird. When his mom lost her battle against cancer, Stiles refused to give her up and his dad didn't even try to make him. His mom had loved Lydia. She'd always told Stiles that Lydia's instincts were the best, and that Lydia would help Stiles find his destiny the way she had helped Stiles' mom find hers.  
  
"Happy Birthday, man!" Scott smiles at him, before tackling Stiles off the desk chair and onto the floor in what they had deemed to be 'an acceptable bro-hug', not that those things mattered to Stiles, or Scott for that matter, considering the fact that he had just planted a wet kiss on his cheek.  
  
"Ugh, man!" Stiles grimaces, wiping his cheek. He groans again as petals crunch under their combined weight when they roll on the floor in their terrible attempt to stand up. "You're making an even bigger mess, man. Help me clean this wreck up. Where did these flowers even come from. Please tell me you aren't declaring your undying love for me. I'm flattered, but dude, come on."  
  
"No, man. You know I love you, but _these _are from your mom's diary. The one you tossed off your desk?"__  
  
"From the book?" Stiles grabs the book off the ground and flips through the pages till he lands on a page covered in blue smudges. Stiles bites his lips, mesmerized by the hypnotic drawing of the blue flowers. He traces the words with his finger, the blue dust tingling.  
  
"Aconitum lycoctonum?" Scott whispers, reading over Stiles' shoulder and making him jump.  
  
"Scott!" Stiles cradles the book close and shoves Scott away with one hand, gasping for breath.  
  
"What?" Scott looks up at Stiles from his place on the ground, wide-eyed.  
  
"You startled me you big lug!" Stiles says. He rolls his chair back towards his desk and sets the book down on it, open to the dusty page. He logs into his computer and starts looking up the name of the flower.  
  
"Hey Stiles..." Scott says, moving closer to look at the book over Stiles' shoulder. Stiles hums his acknowledgement. "When did your mom die?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"When did your mom die? I know it was a little bit after we became best friends, but I don't actually remember much about that time."  
  
"She died on March 25th. Nine years ago. Why?"  
  
"This was placed in here a few months before that."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"See," Scott points to a date that's on the bottom corner of the page. "It says October 2004."  
  
"I think she was still in the hospital that month, or the month after that. But, that doesn't make sense."  
  
"Well, do you remember her getting a lot of visitors or something?"  
  
"Not really. I mean, I was ten. My dad didn't exactly want me to be hanging around the hospital all the time. He'd mostly take me to the library so that I could research cancer, and we'd go visit mom every other day." Stiles is only half-listening to Scott as he sits down at his desk, turning over the pages around the entry.  
  
Scott talks about his mom's latest phone-fight with his dad, and school, and the new girl named Allison who finally agreed to let him take her to the dace. He nods and hums at the right places. Eventually, Scott leaves but Stiles doesn't really register it till he looks up to bounce an idea off of him, and Scott's no longer sitting on his bed. He skims through the entries of the months leading up to his mom's diagnosis and falls asleep sprawled across the books, blue dust smeared across his cheek.


	2. If it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, we have at least to consider the possibility that we have a small aquatic bird of the family anatidae on our hands.

_**December 15th, 2004**_

_Peter came to see me again. He brought me some more pressed bikh. The purple is absolutely beautiful and it turns into a beautiful paint when crushed. Valentine doesn't like the fact that Peter is here -- he says I always look incredibly drained when Peter leaves. But the prophecy was clear. The wolf would guide me home. How can I deny him what he needs if that's the price. Lydia doesn't like Peter either, I don't understand it. I thought she was supposed to help me find my destiny. She was the one who brought Valentine into my life, and that was the best thing ever. I just can't understand it -- If it's fate, shouldn't it be a good thing._

Stiles was confused by the entry. He doesn't know what to think of it or what Peter's relationship with his mother was. He bites his lip, eyebrows furrowed. Lydia chirps loudly, breaking his concentration and looks up to see her fly down from her perch and onto his shoulder.

***

_**January 10th 2005** _

_The cancer is shrinking. At least that is what my doctor says. He says it will take a while before I'm back to my old self. Peter came to visit me again today. He brought me some more of the blue bikh today, and he brought a young girl to see me. Her name sounded really familiar for some reason, but I don't think I've ever met her. Lydia bit her at one point. I don't trust her. She seemed really creepy. But she said that she knew of the prophecy, and she knew a spell that would help. It has something to do with my blood and the bikh, which I don't know seems weird. Bikh is lethal to Peter's kind. Which, makes sense I suppose. Morrell did say that the best cure for poison is to build a resistance, and that is how the antidotes for poison are usually made. I don't know though. I wish Kelly was still here. She was always so much better with her instincts--_

His mom was getting better. His mom was getting better? The cancer was shrinking. Sure, it could have been a false result caused by something else, or the doctors could have missed something but she was feeling better. And what did that even mean - _Peter's kind_? But more importantly, _who_ was Peter. If he was bringing his mom flowers was his mom in love with him?

***

_**February 26th 2005** _

_Valentine brought Genim with him to the hospital today. He's growing up to be such a smart boy. He's been looking up cancer at the City Hall Library and Mrs. Delgado's been telling him about Mr. Delgado's cancer scare ten years ago and how Georgie and Millie had come back to take care of them because of that. Millie's son is Genim's best friend. It's like history repeating itself. I'm so glad that they've got each other._

_My hair started falling out last night. It scared me, it made everything feel so real. Luckily Valentine came back and held me for an hour as I cried -- I love that man so much. I don't know what I would do without him. He almost didn't take a call when the station called, but there had been an incident at the school._

_I think apart from Genim and his adorable antics, I miss my students the most. Derek came to see me today. Laura broke her ankle playing Lacrosse, so since he was here, he came and said hi. He brought me a purple orchid. It was incredibly sweet._

Stiles cries as he reads this. He hadn't knows that Scott's mom and his mom had been best friends. He cries for his father who lost so much after his mom died. He remembers how the his school had felt her loss so strongly and how a bunch of students had build a garden in her memory. Stiles often went there when he felt particularly sad -- it had everything his mom had loved -- her favorite flowers, the fountain she had planned for their own backyard and it was just breath taking. 

***

_**March 8th, 2005** _

_Kate Argent came to visit me today. I still can't figure out where I know that name from. Peter wasn't with her this time, but she said that it was imperative that the ritual be completed this coming full moon. It gives me a little over two weeks to prepare. The doctors are starting to look happier about my progress too. Perhaps this ritual will help me get the strength I need to fight the rest of the cancer. Peter did say it was a transfer of energy. I don't know how she's involved with Peter, and Lydia almost hates her more than she dislikes Peter. She pecked Kate so hard it bled._

_Derek had come by too. He got into Yale and NYU, I guess he really was serious about getting out of Beacon Hills. I'm kind of surprised he comes to visit as often as he does. It's not that the card my class sent me wasn't amazing, it's just that I didn't think Derek had liked me very much when we first met. He talked about Kate Argent too. This time Lydia went nuts -- she was screeching so loudly that the nurses sent her home with Valentine. I kinda miss her company. She may have been a bird, but she's been my best friend for so long._

***

_**March 13th 2005** _

_The doctors look positive that the next round of chemo will send the cancer into remission. I haven't felt this happy in years. I can't believe that I might actually live to see my angel boy grow up. I'll get to teach him the things that Morrell taught me. Kelly's youngest boy is about as old as Stiles and he might need some guidance too if he presents maybe they can learn together. When I'm better I should go check up on them._

His mother was almost in remission. That doesn't make sense. She died less than two weeks later. What did his mom mean by "present"? Aunt Kelly's older son had died at war a couple of years ago. Stiles and his dad hadn't seen them since Aunt Kelly's funeral eight years ago. 

***  
 _ **March 21st 2005**_

_It takes about a day to get to the camp site, Peter drew a rough map so that we can get there on our own that day, but I drew runes on some of the trees so that I'd find my way easier. We started from the Hale house, heading south-east towards Mount Shasta. Speaking of the Hales, I asked Kate about Derek and she laughed Peter looked amused as well. Lydia refused to go any further than the edge of the forest, so I had to leave her at the Hale house._

***  
 _ **March 25th 2005**_

_Tonight is the full moon. I am excited because tonight can change the rest of my life. I know it will. I won't be sick anymore. A stronger relationship with the Hales won't hurt either. Valentine is pulling an all-nighter tonight, and Scott invited Genim for a sleepover, so getting away will be easy. I can't wait to surprise them._

Stiles couldn't finish reading the entry. It was the last entry his mom had made. She was found in the river the next morning. That week had been hell. His mom died and his dad had been unable to mourn because of the fire at the Hale house the next day. He had to know where his mom was going and what she'd found. She couldn't have died of cancer. She couldn't have. There was too much coincidence. Was his dad lying to him?


	3. Into the Woods

"Where are we going?" Scott asks, dusting of the leaves that keep falling on him.

"To the Hale house, Scott! I told you that yesterday." Stiles sighs, taking out the crude map that he'd used the internet to draw.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?"

"Of course, we're going the right way!" Stiles shoots Scott a mock betrayed look, and clutches at his heart.

Stiles had called Scott up in the middle of the night and informed him that they were going to follow his mom's journey. He is having a hard time believing that his mom had died of cancer the way his dad insisted she had. Even if he was right, something had happened that night. It had to have. 

"See! There it is! Don't ever doubt me again, Scott! I am the king of the woods!" Stiles says, running towards and climbing on top of a large pile of charred debris.

"So... what now?" Scott asks, and Stiles jumps down to put a hand on his shoulder. 

"We're going to head south-west and try to find my mom's symbols. She said in her journal, that she'd marked the trees with it every 20 feet, or whenever they turned." Stiles says. "Don't look at me like that. We were Boy Scouts for a whole summer, we couldn't have learned nothing."

"We got kicked out... _you_ got us kicked out after one week, Stiles, _one week_. We did not learn anything!" Scott says indignantly. "Well you're the one who wanted s'mores in the middle of the night!"

"But --"

"Scott! Focus! We need to find a mark on a tree and then get back for dinner!"

Four hours later, the sun is starting to set, and Stiles is no closer to finding the marked tree than he was when he began. Scott's stomach protests loudly to the continued activity. Scott plops down at the base of a tree and Lydia who's been squawking at them for the last three hours flies down from her perch and pecks on his shirt. 

"Eurrrgh!" Scott grimaces, flailing towards Lydia. "What do you want, you stupid bird!" Lydia pecks his hand, making him cry out, but she flies back up to her tree and pecks at the wood.

Scott follows her, and then jumps excitedly. "Lydia found it, Stiles! Stiles! Lydia's a genius bird!" 

Stiles runs back towards Scott and Lydia. "Whoa!" He exclaims, watching the symbol glowing at him. "That makes it so much easier." 

"What?" Scott asks.

"It's glowing." Stiles says, still mesmerized by the faint blue glow the rune emits.

"Say what now?" Scott looks at him like he's crazy

"It's glowing?" 

"What's glowing?"

"The rune."

"No it's not."

"Uh. Yes it is." 

"Okay, crazy-cakes, whatever you say. Can we go have dinner now?" 

"Hey, Scott?" Stiles asks distractedly.

"Yeah?" 

"Do you want to go on an adventure with me?" Stiles looks at the ground sheepishly, dragging his left shoe in the mud awkwardly.

"What kind of adventure?" 

"Um. To figure out what happened to my mom. It might be dangerous, but it'll be nice to have some company."

"Sure, man. What are best friends for!"

"Awesome. Pack some food and things you think we might need. We'll go day after tomorrow. Tell you're mom you want to sleep over for a few days... and don't forget your sleeping bag." 

*** 

Stiles packs his camping bag with packets of chips, trail mix and cookies. He thinks he's carrying enough that Scott and he will last till the end of the week. But he carries some money just in case. He rolls up his sleeping bag and digs up his dad's old lighter and utility knife from the old kit Stiles' dad had made back when they would go fishing together. He takes pictures of his mom's diary on his phone and puts the two extra batteries he has into his back pack as well. There is a map tucked into the cover of his mom's journal and he puts that in his pocket. He packs a few boxers and t-shirts, and his Brita-filter water bottle. 

Scott is going to tell his mom that he's sleeping over for a few nights before they go on a camping trip. It is probably a good thing that it is spring break. Stiles hopes that his dad won't notice that he's gone camping for at least a few days, and he puts the note on his desk in case his dad comes to check on him. 

_Dear Dad,_

_I went camping. Our phones might not get signal, and I didn't want you to worry so I was just letting you know. I'll take care of myself, and Scott is going with me. We wanted to see if our Boy Scout training paid off._

_I'll be home soon. I promise._

_Love,  
Stiles._

He meets Scott at the Hale house around noon. Stiles pulls out the map and looks at it for guidance as Lydia hoots at them, perched on the tree they had scoped out two day ago.


	4. Isaac

They find him in the bushes on the third day, hurt and probably starving. Scott insists on giving him food and water while Stiles glares at the two of them. "Don't finish it all. We only have so much!" he spits out, angrily.

"Thank you." Isaac whispered to them when they finally decided to go on their way.

"You and your bleeding heart." Stiles mumbles when he thinks they are out of earshot.

"What?" 

"Do you have to try and save every stray that comes across your path?" 

"Stiles, he needed our help!"

"I know! I _know_. But when we run out of food, what are we going to do then? We're in the middle of the forest. And I don't know about you, but I don't really remember anything from the summer we decided we wanted to be boy scouts and then got kicked out for going camping on our own." 

"We'll figure it out, Stiles!" 

"Whatever." Stiles grumbles.

When they start setting up camp when the sun begins to set, Scott leaves to collect firewood while Stiles pitches the tent up. He hears a rustling and he grabs a stick as he approaches the sound cautiously. "Come out! I can hear you! If you're an animal, you better be scared!"

"No! No! It's just me, Isaac!" The boy is hunched in on himself, hands outstretched in defense. 

"Oh God, are you following us?" Stiles asks, hands on his hips.

"I... I don't have anywhere to go." 

"Uh... why don't you go back home?" 

"I... I can't." Isaac stutters, eyes drifting to the ground at his feet. It is then that Stiles notices the finger-shaped bruises around Isaac's wrists and the cut that is still visible across Isaac's left cheek starts to make sense. 

"Oh." 

"I'm sorry. I know you don't wan--" Isaac's eyes are wide like saucers. 

"No! It's okay. The more the merrier, right?" Stiles reaches out to pat Isaac, but is startled to a stop when the boy cowers away from his touch. "So. Where are you from?" Stiles asks, reaching into his backpack for the pack of biscuits he'd opened earlier during the day. 

"Mount Shasta." 

"Oh! My mom's sister used to live there. She died in a car crash when I was four, a few years before my mom got cancer." 

"My mom died in a car crash." Isaac mumbles, a tear slipping down his cheek. "and my brother died in Afghanistan." Isaac sobs and Stiles moves closer to Isaac, throwing an arm around the boy.

"I'm sorry." Stiles whispers into Isaac's hair when he clings to Stiles. Lydia chirps loudly, landing on Isaac's knee, and nuzzling into the crook of his neck, making Isaac hiccup wetly around a laugh. "Lydia likes you. I guess you're okay then. Lydia usually hates everyone." Lydia squawks at Stiles and pecks him on his hand making both boys laugh. "See?" 

They don't have an extra sleeping bag, but Stiles figures that if they join the two bags they do have, they'll be able to snuggle together for warmth. As they sleep, Stiles wonders why Isaac seems so familiar to him. He trusts Lydia and she trusts Isaac more than anyone else he's ever seen her with, including Scott, and Scott was someone he trusted so implicitly. He thinks of his mom, and wonders what she would have said. Isaac turns over then, snuffling and nosing his way towards Stiles and it unearths a memory from a long time ago. Aunt Kelly had been visiting when he was six, and his cousin who was five ( _"and a half!"_ ), at the time, were forced to share his bed. That boy had curly brown hair and big doe eyes too. Stiles wonders to himself if Isaac is the same Isaac he shared his bed with when he was six. There are too many coincidences, but he never thought of Uncle Karl as someone who would hit his children.

***

Stiles doesn't say anything to Isaac in the morning, but he watches him through out the day. If Isaac notices the attention, he doesn't say anything.

By the mid-day, there are more pressing matters at hand. Through the day, the boys had managed to go through all the remaining food, except for the small packet of chips that Stiles refuses to hand over to Scott. Stiles shoots Scott a worried look. 

"How are we going to make it through the night?" Stiles whispers when they stop to rest and take a bathroom break. 

"What do you mean?" Scott asks. 

"Dude, We're out of food. That's why I didn't give you the last bag of Miss Vickie's _Hand Picked_ Jalapeno Kettle Chips, you idiot." Stiles whispers tersely. 

"What! But you said we had enough for the whole trip!" 

"Yeah! But I didn't anticipate getting lost an-"

"We're _lost_?" Scott panics and Stiles flails, trying to grab him and shush him so that Isaac doesn't overhear them. 

"Dude. It's fine. I think we're headed in the right direction. Lydia stopped biting me around noon today. That bird is far too smart for it to be --" 

"Stiles! Focus!" Scott cuts Stiles off. "How can we be lost? I thought the runes glowed or whatever."

"Right." Stiles checks his mom's journal again just to make sure. "Well, yes, but they were all sort of hidden under 8 years of bark and overgrowth. My mom's journal says the trip was a day's journey into the woods." 

"We've been in here for almost four days!" Scott's voice is calm but his eyes are wide and doing that thing that they do when he's in full blown panic mode.

"I know." Stiles furrows his eyebrow in concern. "I figured, knowing us, it would take us thrice as long, so I packed what I thought was enough for a week, but the bottom-less-pit over there went through most of it yesterday." Stiles grumbles.

"Stiles, he ate a bag of chips and three biscuits!" 

"Okay, so I underestimated how hungry we'd be after walking for hours! Is that what you want to hear, Scott? Is it? Yeah, I didn't think so. I think we're about half way there, but that still means we have a whole day of hunger to deal with." Stiles winces as his stomach protests loudly at the lack of food. "Great timing there, stomach, well done. We're just going to have to deal because I am not opening that last bag of chips." 

"What's going on, guys?"

"Jesus, Isaac! Warn a dude, will ya?" Stiles jumps a foot when Isaac appears behind him. 

"Are you ready to go?" Scott asks Isaac who nods in affirmation.


	5. The Wolf

The rustling startles them into motion even though Lydia just toots haughtily at them as she continues to preen her feathers.

Stiles lights a stick on fire, and holds it out in front of himself. "Show yourself!" He screams, reminiscent of the day before. This times, a large black wolf appears out from the bush, causing Isaac to whine. It hunches down onto it's hind legs, and stares at Stiles. Stiles, waves the stick ahead of him, trying to scare the wolf away but it just sits there. When Stiles is not as frantic in his motions, it stands up again and walks towards Stiles, who takes a step backwards. The wolf drops the object in his bloody snout and backs away again. 

"Scott, take this." Stiles hands the burning stick to Scott and crouches down. 

"Eww!" He whimpers as his looks at his bloody hands in the camp fire light. "It's bunnies!"

"I think it's an offering." Isaac moves closer to Stiles, inspecting the dead rabbits. 

"Nobody _asked_ you, Isaac." Stiles grumbles, but lets the boy move closer.

"You know people eat rabbit meat, right? I think he wants to help." Isaac says nudging his head towards the wolf. Stiles scowls at Isaac. Lydia chooses that moment to take flight and land on the wolf's back. The wolf growls pathetically at her, and she lifts her wing and bonks it on the head, making all three boys laugh loudly at the startled expression on the wolf's face.

Stiles takes this as Lydia's approval and guts the rabbit the way his father had taught him to. He sharpens the end of a stick with his utility knife and skewers pieces of meat onto it. He still eyes the wolf warily, but he is no longer worried that it will hurt them. 

The three boys talk into the night and when they get sleepy, they huddle close inside the sleeping bag. The wolf hunkers closer then, and the boys watch as it settles down close to them.

***

Stiles wakes up feeling warmer than he has since they started their trip. He feels snug and comfortable and.. cocooned. When he tries to move he feels arms around him, and he yells his surprise. He scrambles out of the sleeping bag, Scott and Isaac looking at him groggily. There's a scruffy man sitting beside his sleeping bag and glaring at him. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under already. "Who. Who are you?" Stiles stutters and the glaring man snarls at him. "Dude. You're sleeping next to me, cuddling me. I think I deserve an explanation." Lydia hoots, and Stiles assumes it is approval of his demand for answers.

"I'm Derek. I got you the rabbits." Derek folds his arms across his chest and glowers at the ground at Stiles' feet. 

"Uh. No. An overgrown dog got us those rabbits, who the fuck are you?" Stiles is not amused. Derek just keeps staring at the ground as though he's willing it to burst into flames. "What? No response? Okay fine. Let's assume you gave us the meat. Does that mean you were the dog?"

"Wolf." Derek corrects.

"What?"

"I'm a wolf not a dog." He draws out his words as though he's explaining his statement to a child. Stiles bursts into a fit of laughter. 

"A wolf? So you're a regular Remus Lupin, eh?" Stiles asks when he's calmed down. 

"A werewolf. I suppose you could call me that. At least that's what I was before the curse kicked in."

"Curse?"

"Yeah." 

Stiles gestures at Derek to continue, but he seems content to have left the story there unaware of Stiles itch to hear more. "You can't stop there, dude! What curse?" 

"It's none of your business." Derek snarls, and Lydia hoots at him. 

"Come on, dude! We need you to travel with us, we can't hunt for food. We'll die. If you help us, maybe we'll try to help you?"

"Fine. You help me, I help you. I used to be a werewolf. It wasn't quite like the fairy-tales though, shifting was voluntary. Then nine years ago something changed. At first I thought it was because my family had been murdered." 

Stiles gasps. "You're Derek _Hale_!" 

"Yeah? What of it?" Derek asks, looming forward to catch Stiles by the throat.

"N-Nothing!" Stiles gasps for air when Derek let's go of his neck. "The fire happened a day after my mom died. She came this way to help someone named Peter, and she died. My dad told me it was the cancer, but things don't add up. I came to figure out what happened to her." 

"Peter Hale?"

"I don't know dude. All I know is that he would bring my mom blue bikh? Wikipedia says that's wolfsbane. She says that she was destined to help his kind -- I'm assuming that means werewolf. And a Kate Argent was helping him -- no idea who she is either." 

"Kate? She was working for my Uncle? That can't be. No. No, no, no. Your mother must have misunderstood or been wrong or something. Kate Argent killed my family."

"What?" 

"She was the one who set the fire to the house. She was at the edge of the woods, a canister of gasoline in her hands, smirking at me. If the police hadn't been there I would have ripped her to shreds. God knows, I've tried to ever since." Derek spits. 

"I don't know, dude. My mom was really good about intuition, especially Lydia's. Although for some reason she ignored it about Peter, and because of Peter she ignored it about Kate. She wasn't wrong they were working together. Why would she do that?"

"This changes everything. I always thought it was a distant relative that caused the curse. Fionnguine said it was caused because one of out kind had a thirst for power. That they did something terrible and as a result curse was activated against the bloodline to balance the effect, but the farther away the lesser it affects." Derek paces back and forth, forefingers pressed to his forehead.

"Derek? What are you talking about?" 

"You." Derek grabs Stiles by the shoulders. "Are you special?"

"Not really, no. Unless you mean special needs, in which case -- _RUDE_!" 

"So why target your mom?" Derek's face contorts with his confusion and Stiles staggers backwards when Derek lets go.

"Well she mentioned spells if that helps." Stiles says.

"What else do you know?" 

"Nothing! I swear! You can read her journal yourself; I took pictures on my cell phone." 

***

"It's almost sunset. We need to stop." Derek says, looking up at the sky.

"What? Why?" Scott asks.

"Because I'm going to turn. It is painful and not something I'd like to be walking around for." Derek grimaces.

"And you can't control the transformation like you used to." Stiles says.

"Right." Derek nods.

"Hmm, I guess this is as good a time as any to set up camp. Do you think you could get us something bigger this time? Rabbit's good, but there isn't enough meat to feed all three of us _and_ a monstrous wolf. Also, raw or cooked?" Stiles asks, setting his backpack on the ground.

"I'll try my best. Cooked, but the rarer the better."

About a half an hour later, they're sitting around the camp-fire Isaac's build. Turns out he was a Varsity Scout. 

"So why did you think your family's death caused the effects of the curse?" Isaac asks.

"What?" Derek and Stiles say together.

"You were saying earlier that you thought it was what caused your inability to control your shifts." Isaac says, eyebrows raised.

"Oh. Well, being a wolf is instinctual. As a born-wolf, staying in human form means curbing back that instinct of reacting. We need anchors to find that balance. My anchor was my family. Losing them made me feel out of control. No matter what I did, I couldn't turn back, even during the day. Eventually, my anchor changed. I became able to control my transformation during the day, but at night it was involuntary. It took me a year to find the witch that told me if was a curse." 

"You said 'born-wolf', does that mean there are werewolves that weren't born as one?" Isaac asks, Derek's eyes widen and and Stiles is surprised at how perceptive and attentive Isaac is.

"Good catch. Yes, lycanthropy is like a mutation, but it is contagious like a disease; transferred through the bite of alpha wolves. For a made-wolf, the instincts are unnatural so they have a hard time controlling it when the instinct kicks in, making the body very confused. It is why more made-wolves become feral. Born-wolves have a longer time t--" Derek doubles over with a pained groan, and the boys can't help but watch with morbid fascination as Derek turns into his lupine form.


	6. The Mad King of Vassilissa

Stiles has started recognizing Lydia's cues after they finally got on the right track and she helps him navigate their way through the thicket. When they reach a certain point however, Lydia refuses to let them move forward. She keeps hooting at Stiles, and pecking at a tree. Derek eventually gets frustrated and rips his claws through the bark. 

"Woah!" Isaac whispers, mesmerized by the glowing script on the tree.

"You can see that?" Stiles asks, baffled. 

"Of course I can. It's blue... and glow-y." Issac says.

Derek and Scott grumble off to the side that they can't see any blue light, and Isaac and Stiles laugh at them. 

"There's a lot more symbols there than there were on the first tree." Stiles says and Lydia hoots at him. 

"Can you read them?" Isaac asks, eyes wide and curious. 

"I don't actually know how to read runes, but let's try to Google them." Isaac and Stiles move closer to the writing on the tree, while Stiles tries to wriggle his phone out of his back pocket.

"I can read it." Isaac whispers, in awe of this fact.

"What?"

"I can read it." Isaac repeats with more conviction.

Stiles looks up at Isaac, who is tracing the runes with his finger, turning them orange, and turning them into something legible. "Woah, dude! That is so cool! Is that Polish?" 

Isaac nods. "The blood of the Faerie runs through my veins, I am the heir and savior. The master and the servant. I am of Thimbruin, King of the Faerie." Isaac reads aloud. A bright white light glows to the left of the tree. 

Isaac and Stiles look at each other and Lydia flies down onto Isaac's shoulder to peck at the collar of his t-shirt.

She then flies forward into the light, and Isaac and Stiles follow her with a shout. 

***

For a minute it feels as though nothing has happened. Lydia lands on Stiles' shoulder and he can feel Derek's wolf form behind him. Isaac is standing beside him. "Scott?" Stiles calls out when he misses the reassuring presence of his best friend, and the answering bark from his right startles him, "Scott?" Stiles squats down to look at the small brown wolf. Lydia flies off his shoulder just before she catches on fire. "Lydia!" Stiles yells. 

The fire dies down just as quickly as it started, the ashes glowing and vibrating. Scott growls at it and Derek moves in front of Stiles and Isaac. A beautiful girl, with strawberry-blonde hair and skin that shimmers in the sunlight, emerges from the gigantic pile of ash, and Stiles is awestruck. "Lydia?"

"Finally! I was going crazy trying to get you knuckle-heads to listen to me!" Lydia says, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

"What is going on?" Stiles asks, when Scott tugs at his pants. But they're not his pants. He looks down at himself and notice that he is wearing an ornate red gákti. Isaac is wearing a similarly ornate garment as well, but his is vibrant green. "I don't understand." 

"All in due time, Stiles." Lydia smiles at him before she turns on her heels and starts walking away. When she realizes that nobody is following her, she turns around to glare at them, hands on her hips. "Well, are you coming or not?" 

The befuddled quartet follow silently, Isaac taking Lydia's outstretched hand when they reach her. Soon, they arrive at the top of a hill at the the bottom of which lay a vast city. 

"Woah. Where are we?" Isaac asks, wide-eyed. 

"This is Vassilissa. The land of the faeries." The pride in her voice is hard to miss, and there is a tear that rolls down her cheek. 

When they march through the gates of the city, the faeries go quiet. Like Lydia there is a shimmer to their skin. The faeries seem to be in awe of their presence, and Derek growls at them until Stiles drags his fingers through Derek's fur, thinking it will placate the grumpy wolf. Scott and Derek pace beside Stiles, barricading him away from the Faeries, and Isaac is walking ahead of them, still holding Lydia's hand.

The castle looms over them when they reach the steps leading up to it and a chill runs up Stiles' spine. The castle itself is bright, but there is an air of foreboding that surrounds it. Isaac fidgets to Stiles' side, and his finger twitch when they brush against Stiles'. Scott yips and runs to the door and back, barking from between Stiles' legs. Stiles stifles a laugh. 

Lydia ushers them up the steps, and into the gate.She guides them through the corridors like she's been here before, and leads them into a gigantic hall. A man is sitting on the throne, and Derek growls at him as he stands. He is tall and lanky, the crown over his head is tilted to the side and the black robes he's wearing drape to the ground elegantly. 

"Ah, Derek. Welcome to my new home." He says, bony fingers gesturing around before they close towards his palm. He laughs cruelly as Derek growls, frothing at the snout. 

"Ah yes, that is our people's curse isn't it. We cannot exist in a human form in this plane just as full-blooded faeries cannot live in our plane in their human form. I, of course, have been able to transcend that primitiveness, through no small feat." He snarls at Derek then. 

Derek howls and leaps at the man, claws slashing his throat, leaving a bloody mess. Isaac gasps loudly when the man just stands up, laughing cruelly at Derek. "Did you really think that would work? I am the king of the Vassilissa." He snarls at Derek. "I retain the powers lycanthropy provided me and those of the faerie whose essence I was given. You think you're the first to challenge that?" He raises an arm, palm facing forward, and sends a bolt of lightening at Derek, throwing him across the room. Derek hits the wall with a sickening thud. Stiles gasps and runs towards him, pulling his snout onto his lap. 

"And who are you?" The lanky king asks, a surprised expression on his face as though he's only just realized that Stiles and his friends are in the hall as well. 

"I might ask you the same thing." Stiles says, standing up. He squares himself off, preparing himself for the force of whatever blow the king might use. He is surprised when the king laughs instead. 

"Aren't you a bit of a spitfire. Well then, I'm Peter Hale. The King of Vassilissa, and his uncle." He says mockingly, pointing at Derek. "You're turn." Peter's eyes go hard, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"I'm Genim Stilinski, Son of Kathryn Stilinski, King Thimbruin's heir." A collective gasp runs around the Hall, "and you killed my mother." Stiles has never felt anything like the anger and power that is racing through his veins. He wants to hurt Peter and avenge his mother. He feel the solidness in his hand and he charges at Peter, who is staring at Stiles wide-eyed. 

Stiles' sword barely scratches Peter's side, when he is flung backwards, sword flying out of his hand and clattering to the ground across the room. Peter clutches at his side and Stiles coughs and spits blood on the ground. Scott charges at Peter from one side of the room and Stiles barely manages to should his protest. Scott manages to bite Peter, who yells in surprise before snarling and levitating Scott from his tail. Stiles watches helplessly as Scott scrambles to get free. 

"Well. That was unexpected. I mean, I've heard the prophecy, but I've defeated warriors so much stronger and powerful than you. You're not at all what I imagined the heir of Thimbruin would look like, you are a mere child. You have had no training, you have no idea how to use your powers. It is so funny watching you scamper about like a lost rabbit. But I will kill you and absorb whatever latent power you have, just like I did to your mother. The prophecy will be broken, as will the line of Thimbruin." Peter scowls, eyes wide and mad. "I made her trust me. Made her think she was going to be fulfilling the prophecy by helping me. I made her ignore that stupid bird of hers. But she wanted to live and raise you." Peter laughs then. "She was so desperate to beat that cancer for you. Her weakness was pathetic. Any final requests?"

"Yes. Why did you do this?" Stiles asks. 

"Do you know what a chore it is to be a werewolf?"

"Oh yeah, such a burden. Superhuman senses, speed, strength and healing, such a burden." Stiles sighs mockingly, his survival instinct not kicking in, in the face of definitive death, and Peter snarls.

"I had heard from a Hag when I was touring Europe that there was a world where the supernatural could exist without the pain that the human world causes. But that I, being what I was couldn't do it without having to become a permanent wolf. I wasn't about to give up my human form, not when this form has the sophistication that it does." Peter twirls, gracefully. "I found a witch near Germany who told me that I could rule this world if I had a permanently human form if I was willing to pay the price. Oh and I was. I was never going to be the alpha of my pack. I was a man and my pack was matriarchal. It was frustrating, having to listen to women. They were meant to serve men." Peter grimaces, looking paler than he had when they'd entered the hall.

"What did Kate Argent have to do with it?" Stiles asks. 

"Oh, you want more than one final question? But I'll indulge you, you are a doomed man after all. Kate Argent was easy to manipulate. She was a hunter, but she was more ambitious than she was idealistic. She wanted power, and I promised her that. She had to keep my family distracted. I told her I would make her my queen." Peter laughs maniacally. "She did a bang up job of distracting Derek. She seduced him. Did he tell you that?" Derek growls and tries in vain to get up, he looks better than he did before but he's still bleeding where the broken column cut through his hide. Stiles tries to crawl towards him, hand reaching out, fingertips grazing along his fur. "Once I had Kathryn's power, the Argent girl was supposed to make me 'disappear' and come to me. She burned my house down, what a perfect way to destroy any evidence that I was alive. But when she came to me, she couldn't cross over because she didn't have faerie blood, everything had worked according to plan." Stiles opens his mouth to ask another question but Peter interrupts him, "you probably want to know why I could enter even though I was in the same position as Kate. I stole your mother's power, for that she had to willingly give me her blood. With the blood of the faeries flowing through me, I had the camouflage I needed to fool the gateway." Peter gasps loudly, staggering when he steps forward. "What is happening?" He clutches at his side and when he pulls away he's bleeding from the wound Stiles had inflicted. 

There's a panic in his eyes, as he raises his hand. He groans out a spell as he falls to his knees, but the light splutters out. "Wha- How?" He grabs Stiles by the collar. "What have you done?" 

"What?" Stiles whimpers, confused, and pushes away from Peter's weakened body. 

"Stiles! Catch" Isaac yells, throwing the sword towards Stiles. Nobody had noticed Isaac creeping towards the sword. Peter lunges for the sword, but Stiles moves instinctively, and the sword impales Peter in the stomach. He lets go of the hilt and scrambles away from Peter's body and towards Derek. When Derek's blood touches him, it glows brightly and Derek stares at Stiles while his wounds knit together. 

A cheer erupts through the hall breaking their stare, and when Stiles searches for his friends, Lydia looks at Stiles with pride shining in her eyes.


	7. The Coronation

Stiles looks back towards Derek's prone form, he tries to resist the hands leading him through the hall. "The heir!" A faerie exclaims, pushing him up the stairs and towards the throne. 

"No!" He protests loudly. Lydia smiles at him indulgently. 

"And his queen!" The faeries announces, gesturing towards Lydia. 

"Oh, _hell_ no!" Lydia exclaims, and Stiles looks at her with mock betrayal on his face. "I love you, but I have practically raised you. I might be young by faerie standards, but I've seen you grow up. And I already have a betrothed. As do you."

"I do not!" Stiles protests vehemently. 

"You do, but it might come to nothing if that is what you choose. The ground work already exists if you choose to acknowledge your feelings." Lydia says primly, brushing an invisible fleck off Stiles' shoulder. Stiles' eyes drift towards Derek who is pawing the ground like it holds the answers to the meaning of life. 

Scott nudges Stiles out of his reverie, and Stiles realizes everyone is looking at him. 

"Do you accept your role as the king and the protector?" The exuberant faerie from before repeats impatiently. 

"Uh, what does that even mean?" Stiles asks.

"It means," The faerie says testily, "that you'll stay here, rule our lands and protect us from harm." 

"How am I supposed to do that?" 

"Are you serious? You are the heir. The power you wield is immeasurable." The faerie grabs the crown and wiggles it towards Stiles. Stiles steps back. 

"What about my dad?" 

"What about him? He is human, he is welcome here if he wants to visit." 

"Visit? Can he not stay?" 

"The first human who was brought here and bore King Thimbruin's hybrid child faded away a week after she returned with the child. And the only reason she was able to bear the child was because she went back to her realm once she was with child. She was not found in either realm once she had faded. 

"I am not leaving my father there alone. He's lost everything because of what my mother was and what I am." 

"But what of our people?" 

"I don't know! How is that my problem? Why can't Isaac be the king, he's an heir too!" 

Everyone's heads snap towards Isaac. "W-w-what?" He stutters. 

"Do you remember when you were five?" Stiles says. "And a half," he adds as an afterthought. "You came to visit me and my mom and we were forced to share a bed. I realized the first night you were with me but I didn't want to spook you. You're my cousin." 

"That was you? You slept with your feet on my face!" Isaac says indignantly, crossing his arms across his chest. 

"Isaac, you are clearly powerful too. You were the one who opened the gateway." Stiles says, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You can't go home. Not to your father!" Stiles runs his thumb over the cut that has scabbed over and Isaac pulls away, ashamed. "You're kind and compassionate. What more can they want from a king?" 

"But _you_ are the one who killed the Mad King, You are a Prince, Genim Stilinski son of Princess Kathryn! _You_ are the king! This, this frail boy cannot be king. The prophecy clearly sta--" The whiny faerie says. Stiles is starting to get very annoyed by him. 

"Actually," Lydia interrupts him, "the prophecy says that the protector and future king will vanquish the evil that plagues the land but it doesn't say that they are the same person. Do not now, or ever again speak that way about him. His is King Isaac Thimbruin son of Princess Calypso." She takes Isaac's hand and raises it above their heads.

"But-- But--!" The faery is drowned out by the cheer that spreads down the stairs.

Stiles stares in fascination as Issac begins to levitate and glow with a light that seems to be shinning from inside him that keeps growing till it is so bright it becomes almost impossible to look at him. When it starts to fade, Isaac is floating down, looking fondly at Lydia.

Isaac's green gákti has gotten more ornate and a royal blue cape sits on his shoulders. There is an intricate crown around his head, and he looks bright-eyed and regal, nothing like the shell of a boy that Stiles and Scott had found in the woods. There is the familiar faerie translucency to his appearance, and he smiles at Stiles, clasping his shoulder and drawing him into a hug. 

"You are the protector and you can travel between our realms, but do not forget that this will always be your home too. You showed me kindness even though you didn't need to, and gave me your loyalty even though I had done nothing to earn it. That will not be forgotten. Thank you." Isaac pulls back and moves towards Lydia, who entwines her arm through Isaac's. She is looking at him with a fond expression and smiles at something he whispers to her.

"Derek!" Isaac calls for him, and the large wolf moves forward obediently. "You protected us, and tried to right the wrong that your Uncle had committed towards us. I absolve you of the curse that was placed on you. However, you must pledge your protection to my kin." Derek howls in response, and crouches down on his forelegs. "You are the last of your pack, you will feel the urge to expand, but you are not alone, you have family." He gestures to Scott who sits up, head cocked to the side in confusion. "Do not abandon them even though you do not recognize their blood as your own."

"Scott, you were a friend to me, you convinced Stiles to let me be a part of your expedition. I cannot give you the latency that your lycanthropy exhibited, but I can urge you to find guidance in Derek. He's gruff and unpolished, not the mate I'd have chosen for my brethren but I have no control over that, but he has a pure heart and while it might take him a while to become the Alpha he is destined to you, I do not doubt that you could be a valuable leader in his pack. I hope that you will come to visit me, my brother." Isaac runs his hand through Scott's fur and touches his nose to Scott's snout. "Thank you my friends, for your help. I wish you well on your journey home." 

"Before you go, here are a few things to remember us by. Stiles, this is not a toy, it is your great great grandfather's sword." Lydia hands him the sword that he killed Peter with. "Scott, this can help you counteract any poison that can kill a werewolf, it won't help with any other symptoms, but it will prevent death." She ties the bottle around Scott's neck. "Derek, we've given you our most precious gift. Protect it as you would your life." Derek nods towards Lydia, before he sits on his haunches and howls to the sky. 

"Are you not coming with us?" Stiles asks, saddened by the prospect.

"I have done my job, Stiles." Lydia cups his cheek. "You are a good friend. But, my duty is here now." She looks over at Isaac fondly, and Stiles cannot begrudge her that. "Good Luck, Nim." 

Stiles walks down to them, and Derek bows to him, head hanging low, and when Stiles runs his hand over his head, Derek crouches lower, urging Stiles onto his back. When Stiles is seated, he takes off for the gateway, Scott following close behind. 

When they pass through the gateway, Stiles is back in his t-shirt and Scott and Derek are still wolves. They race towards civilization following Lydia as she soars overhead, guiding them to the edge of the woods.


	8. Epilogue

"Good Trip?" The Sheriff asks Stiles the next morning when he comes down for breakfast.

"Yeah." Stiles says, reminiscing. 

The sheriff sighs, "Stiles, you had me worried. I got your note, but you were gone for a week." 

"I'm sorry, dad." Stiles says, sheepishly. 

"I'm just happy you're home, son." the Sheriff, pulls Stiles into a tight hug. "I missed you."

"I didn't think you'd notice." Stiles says, he's a little choked up, but he holds back his tears.

"Of course I would. You're my son. I love you. I know that things haven't been good between us since your mom di--" He coughs on the word, "She was so much better at this." 

"Dad..." A tear slips down Stiles' cheek. "I miss you too. So much. How about we go fishing next weekend." 

"Sure." the Sheriff says, brightening up at the prospect. "Also, you have a visitor outside. I didn't know you knew Derek Hale." 

Stiles blushes. "He's a new... friend." Stiles says, looking out the kitchen window to see Derek standing against a tree in the front yard. He grabs a couple of pop-tarts, slips on his all-stars and hoodie. He yells his goodbye from the front door before his dad can make any further deductions.


End file.
